Of Beams and Wands
by Player Two
Summary: Stay a while, and listen, and I will tell you a story of castles and caves, of giants and goblins, of wizards and... well, wizards. Rated T just to be on the safe side.


A/N:I do not own anything you recognize. I was struck by this plot bunny a couple months ago. Not sure where I'll take it, but it should be fun. As befits a Magicka fic, will be completely saturated in any references I can think of. Slight AU in terms of the Potterverse: Harry is dating Luna, and Ginny and Dean never broke up. R&R for +1 to Int.

* * *

It was a cold day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A brisk wind blew from across the Great Lake, throwing the water into a rolling frenzy. Not that Harry Potter minded. It was the first Quidditch match of the school year, after all. The lanky teen brushed his shaggy black hair out of his emerald eyes, checked his uniform to make sure it would stay on, and surveyed the other six members of his team. The three Chasers, two Beaters, and Keeper all looked up at him. Their red capes billowed out in the wind, and the sun glinted off the proud golden lion of Griffindor House, boldly emblazoned on their chests.

Harry turned to face the other side of the Quidditch pitch. Five hundred yards away, the green uniforms and silver serpents of Slytherin House rose into the air on their brooms. Harry unshouldered his own broom, mounted it, and kicked off, shooting into the air like a firebolt his broom was named for. The rest of his team followed suit in short order. The school referee, Madam Hooch, stepped out onto the pitch, toward a large, quivering, wooden chest. She kicked it open, releasing the two Bludgers, small, heavy balls that flew around, trying to cause moderate bodily harm. The beaters of each team were armed with small clubs to keep the Bludgers away from their own team and aim them at the opponents. Madam Hooch picked up the Quaffle, a large red ball handled by the Chasers. She threw the ball into the air, and the teams scattered. Something that only a Seeker like Harry would have noticed, however, was a small glint of gold flitting out from behind Madam Hooch. The Golden Snitch. More often than not, the team whose Seeker caught it would win the game. Harry dove for it, feeling the wind whip through his hair. The game was on.

* * *

Across the Great Lake, a red-robed figure planted his staff in the dirt. Behind him, two more emerged from the forest, one clad in green, the other in blue. Red -oddly enough, the one wearing the red robes- glanced at them. He briefly looked back at them, then did a double take. "Wait, where's Yellow?"

As if in answer, there was a crash from the forest, coupled with loud, albeit mild, swearing. "BOLLOCKS! No, get off me, you manky-" a heavy thud, followed by an explosion. Red sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose,

"Green, you're his best friend, you go help him." Green nodded and walked back, elemental orbs already circling him. There was one final, muffled BOOM followed by a green glow.

Yellow staggered out of the forest, tripping over his own feet and sprawling out on the shore. Green followed him out and resumed his place behind Red. Blue spoke up. "Are we sure this is the place?"

"Yes." Red picked his staff back up. It was a long staff of purple crystal, standing nearly as tall as him, with a leather wrapped grip just beneath two prongs. Electricity sparked underneath the warm surface. Five blue-white orbs of pure cold started orbiting Red "Now, let's get going." He channeled the orbs into his staff. They erupted from the twin prongs in an icy-blue spray, freezing the surface of the lake solid where it hit. Red stepped cautiously onto the ice, testing it to ensure that it would hold his weight. He looked back at the others, and nodded. They followed him onto the ice. Yellow first, trailed by Green. Blue brought up the rear. He melted the part of ice connected to the land, then pushed off, sending the floating puck of frozen water into a lurching path across the lake.

* * *

Harry leaned forward, straining to catch the Snitch. His fingers brushed the polished golden surface of the ball. He tensed his hand, and when he felt the light pressure of the fluttering orb against his palm, clenched his fist. He slowed down and brought his broom around, holding his fist high, triumphant.

"And Griffindor wins. Not that anyone expected anything different, really." Luna Lovegood's dreamy voice floated out over the stands. Harry allowed himself a small chuckle at his girlfriend's antics as he touched down on the sea of green rest of the team cheered and lifted him into the air, bearing him off the field and into the changing room.

"Alright," he bellowed over the din. "listen up." A hush fell over the assembled crowd. "we had a good first game, but we can't let that go to our heads. I've got a little bit of feedback for you guys, and some new tactics to discuss at the next meeting, but we'll get to that then. Fred, George," The two Beaters saluted with their clubs. "Good job today, keep it up. Ginny, you're flying well, but you need to work on your throwing arm." The red-head nodded. "Katie, no complaints. Dean, you've got an amazing throw, but you need to tighten up your turns." Dean tossed the Quaffle at Harry, grinning.

"And Ron." Harry sighed. "Ron, you're my best mate, and I love you to death, but you're lucky the chasers are so good or we might have lost."

"I know." Ron stripped off his helmet and chest plates. "I'll get better."

"We can work on it over the year. Next match is against Hufflepuff in six weeks." Harry announced. "Now who's ready for dinner?" This last question was met with a roar of approval.

* * *

The ice floe thudded against the cliff on the Hogwarts side of the Great Lake. Red pulled a rather worn, coffee-stained map out of his robe. "There should be an entrance around here somew- OW! Will you stop that?" he turned around to see Yellow drop his staff.

"Stop what? You asking me?" He put on his best 'I-didn't-do-anything' face. It didn't work. Red shook his head, rubbing the back of it.

"Anyway, there should be caves on this side of the lake." He grabbed one of the rocks that were conveniently jutting out of the rocky cliff at abour shoulder height, using it to propel the chuck of frozen water and its occupants along the wall. Blue held out his hand, asking silently for the map. Red handed it to him, continuing to drag the ice floe across the sheer rock face. Unfortunately, he allowed his mind to wander as he did this, the result being that he missed when the wall stopped being there and faceplanted into the hard, stone floor of the cave.

Blue looked up from the map. "We're here."

"Really?" Came the muffled response from the floor. "I couldn't tell." Red picked himself up, dusting off his robe and reclaiming his sword and staff from where they had landed beside them. "Last stop, everyone off here."

Green chuckled. "Should I melt the ice? I might as well, it'll take forever otherwise."

"Go ahead. Bloody pyromaniac."

Green's eyes lit up as he conjured a ball of fire. Unleashing it in a spray, he melted the now useless chunk of flotsam.

"Don't overdo it," Red warned, "I don't think these people have fire insurance."

"It's not like stone catches fire, though." Green let let the fire go out.

"Still. We need to get to the castle. Everyone, make Haste."

They all stared at him. Blue blinked a couple times. "That was the worst pun ever... Of all time."

"Just cast the damn spell." They lit up their staffs and took off running towards the castle.


End file.
